


Maiden's Folly

by catarrhini



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Public Sex, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catarrhini/pseuds/catarrhini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a favor for Beorn's help, Thorin & Co. agree to reunite an abandoned human with her family in Dale. After a bitter exchange with Thorin and a trek through some dodgy shrubbery, the situation comes to an embarrassing head in a rather public place. Sex pollen and crack!fic to the highest degree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maiden's Folly

**Author's Note:**

> In a sleep-deprived haze, I posted [THIS](http://kinkyhobbitconfessions.tumblr.com/post/44278171076/965-thorin-and-i-get-into-a-fight-and-i-march) confession to the [kinkyhobbitconfessions](http://kinkyhobbitconfessions.tumblr.com/) tumblr. Anon requested someone turn it into a fic, and well, you know... Someone needs to take this computer away from me. Plz. Nao.

Night was eternal on the brushy, cob-webbed floor of Mirkwood. It could have been days or weeks or scant few hours since Beorn had fobbed me off onto the travelling company of Dwarves and the thing they called a Hobbit. Without the rising or setting of the sun to mark the passage of time, I really could not say. I reckoned it must be night, because fatigue had overcome our party and we had settled down for the night. Fίli smiled and gestured towards the bedroll laid next to his brother’s, a question lifting his brow. He was such a sweet man, having kept me warm the last few times we had made camp. I nodded with a small smile.

The large Dwarf, Bombur, was stirring a large pot of the funny stew they all seemed to favor. It did not taste bad, just strange, a mixture of sweet and savory, odd bluish potatoes mixed throughout. He looked around the camp with a satisfied sigh and announced, “Stew’s on.” Wooden bowl in hand, Fίli rose to serve up a hearty serving, which he brought back and shared with me. Not for the first time did I lament having lost all of my clothing and personal effects when I became separated from my own party all those weeks before Beorn found me unsuccessfully trying to trap rabbits in the woods. It left me feeling atypically helpless, which I hated.

As we ate together, I felt eyes boring in to me. I looked up, meeting with Thorin’s steely glare. There was something about him that had unsettled me from the beginning. It was obvious that he was their leader (even without Beorn having told me about his people’s lost kingdom), but he seemed paradoxically defeated and conquering. I could not hold his gaze for long. I looked down at the bowl of soup that Fίli was nudging back into my hands. I must have worn a strange expression, because he playfully pressed a spoonful of soup to my lips, which I accepted with a grin. We finished the meal in silence, cleaning dishes and tidying the camp in preparation for sleep.

I excused myself for a moment to slip off to the side to relieve myself before sleeping. As I refastened my underclothing and straightened my skirt, I heard the rustling of heavy footsteps to my right. Thorin appeared, and my stomach dropped. He looked distinctly displeased, but he simply stood and looked at me, as though he owned me, as though I were so far below his station.

“I’d like to know what you think you’re playing at,” he demanded quietly, his arms crossed against his chest. I honestly had no idea what he was talking about, and I told him as much. “See, I think you do know. I think you know exactly what you’re doing, human.”

“If you’re talking about Fίli-“ I hazarded a guess that he cut off immediately.

“Aye, that’ll be exactly what I’m talking about,” he said in that calmly venomous tone. “You can’t possibly think you’re worthy of one of the line of Durin, much less the future king of the reclaimed Erebor.” My jaw dropped. I was absolutely gob smacked.

“I get cold at night! We’re just being friendly,” I answered with a cracking voice, because I sincerely knew not what else to say.

“Rather more friendly than is required, I reckon,” he bit back lethally. What he was insinuating was completely, totally- My hands shook with impotent rage. He reached out swiftly and grabbed my arm with stony fingers. “So, do you open your legs for just any passing traveler, or only the ones from whom you can gain the most gold and prestige?”

His false words cut me deeply, and the singular thought that overwhelmed my consciousness in that second was that I needed to get away from this awful man. I jerked free of him and wheeled around, running as fast as I could through the trees, putting as much distance as I could between myself and that wretched campsite. The woods were dense, and I whipped through spider webs over and over as I ran. The cool night air cut through my lungs. As I ran, I futilely wished that I had never let myself become separated from my party of kinsmen those weeks ago. I wished I had never left Beorn’s house with these Dwarves to find my family again in Dale. I wished that I had known better than to accept Fίli’s kindness, but most of all, I wished I had never met the monster Thorin Oakenshield.

My legs grew heavy with fatigue. I was not being followed. All I could fathom in the darkness around me were the vague specters of massive tree trunks and the low-hanging braches that whipped against my face. Trotting to a stop, panic settled in my chest as I realized that I was completely, inexorably lost. The silence of the black forest was crushing. My heart beat in my ears. I had lost sight of the company’s campfire, and the impermeable canopy above me dampened any wayward starlight into oblivion. My lungs seized and a choked sob wheezed forth from me against my will. I collapsed against a tree trunk and hugged my legs tight to my chest. I hid my face between my knees and prayed to Elbereth above that I might make it out of these cursed woods alive.

Presently, I heard the rustling of fallen leaves rapidly growing closer, and my heart dropped to the pit of my belly. It was the spiders, surely. How could I have been so impulsive, so foolish to run off into spider-infested woods without considering that I might attract their attention? With my hands shaking, I froze stock-still, my face still buried from view. Perhaps if I faded into the stillness of the tree trunk they would just scurry past me? The rustling grew ever closer, my panic absolute as it came to a stop mere feet from where I was curled from view.

“You do remember that there are spiders in these parts, do you not?” Came a haughty voice. I jerked up to look upon the disdainful face of Thorin Oakenshield, lit by the light cast by the torch in his hand, his sword gripped fiercely in his other fist. The frantic relief I felt upon seeing him died quickly when he said, “Even children know not to run off alone. Are you a simpleton?” Disgust and rage filled me once more, flushing the last shaky vestiges of fear and panic from my tired limbs.

“Are we going to head back to camp, or are you just going to stand here insulting me until the spiders find us?” I spat back at him, braver than I felt. His face darkened.

“I didn’t have to come after you,” he snapped, beginning the trek back to camp. “I owe you nothing. I only agreed to take you to Dale, because my company owed Beorn a favor.” I struggled to stand upright and jogged to catch up with him.

“Yes, but if you hadn’t said those awful things to me…” I began, but he abruptly came to a stop and turned to face me. The darkness and heat in his eyes brought the creeping feeling of fear back to my trembling limbs.

“I will not apologize for speaking truth, foolish girl,” he said in a low, steady voice. “I do not think you would last so long among the dwarves, who take responsibility when they are wrong. No one rushes into peril to save them in their hour of need.” My face burned red, and I felt sick. His eyes grew distant, and he turned on his heel once more. “I saw a nest of spiders near the path on my way to fetch you. You must have run right past them. Count yourself lucky, but we must take a different path to rejoin my kinsmen and comrades.” He cut a rapid gait, and I followed closely behind as he veered towards what might be the south of our campsite. I could not tell with the lack of visible stars to guide us. We cut through the inky blackness of the night, the torch lighting our path between the trees, too numerous to count. It occurred to me at one point that we may be going in circles.

“Why is it taking so long?” I asked at length, struggling to catch my breath as he marches ever more rapidly.

“Not much longer now,” he hissed. “There should be a small meadow up ahead. We stopped for the night a ways north of that.” I began to worry, because the torch was burning down to embers, and it was hard to say just how much further we were from the camp. The forest seemed to roll on in front of us into bleak eternity.

The meadow was not exactly a meadow as such, but the strong cobwebs were less dense here, as were the trees. Small, brushy bushes grew in a meager copse, their scrubby branches covered in grainy, red, frond-like pods. As we traipsed through the undergrowth, a thick red dust rose from the plants. Thorin froze, looking down around his feet. When he turned to face me, I could see the dust had settled against his stricken face, and I could feel a fine layer that had settled on my own skin and clothing. I sneezed once, and then my knees became slightly woozy, no doubt an effect of my earlier mad dash through the woods. I knew something was wrong when Thorin’s face fell into naked panic, an emotion I was sure had not befallen that majestic visage for quite some time. As quickly as my knees had grown weak, I became overwhelmed with Thorin’s presence. He was too much, too close, this awful man.

The torch slipped from his hands and the flame guttered on the ground. He grabbed my wrist painfully and pulled me close. “It’s of paramount importance that we get to the camp as quickly as possible. We need to run.” His voice was pinched, brittle, urgent.

I floundered. “I- I don’t think I can. My legs- They’re shaking,” I was surprised to hear myself say with a thin voice. He growled inarticulately, and the next thing I absorbed was that I had been lifted unceremoniously and thrown over the Dwarf’s shoulder. Color flooded my face at the gentle, slow burn of his hands against me. He began a rapid sprint, fleeing from the clearing with haste I had never witnessed in my life. My body seized with panic and fear of him dropping me or crashing us into a tree. Without the dim light of the torch, we were two bodies hurtling blindly through space. “What is going on?” I yelled.

With gasping breaths, he said, “That dust… It’s pollen… Pollen from the Maiden’s Folly plant.”

With this admission, my world narrowed to a horrid point. I was a moment away from blacking out. My whole existence simplified to one single resounding “No.”

“Aye, little girl.” He panted, running ever as quickly, grasping me tightly to his shoulder, his blade having been sheathed long ago. “Balin might be able to counteract its effect with poultices or tonics, only if we make it in time.” I prayed we would. I had heard stories of unsuspecting fools who traipsed through a field of Maiden’s Folly before. The words of these tales were whispered behind hands and fans, tawdry stories told to me by girls older than myself, stories that had made me go red with shame and interest. I wanted what he said to be untrue, but I knew by the racing of my heart and the growing sensitivity of my flesh that he spoke the truth. I cursed Maiden’s Folly. How I prayed that we made it to the campsite before the dust forced us to consummate a wholly unnatural, animal lust.

Oh, how I hated Thorin Oakenshield.

Our hearts were pounding, almost as one. My brain was beginning to fog dangerously, the scent of his hair, the musk of his strong body filling my nostrils, coaxing a terrible groan from me. “Please, Thorin, hurry.” As I pled, I detected the faint red-golden light from a fire. I knew we were growing close, and I was frantic, my body alight with sensation I had never known before. His tireless paces slowed, his legs stumbling. I could feel his sturdy frame shaking. “Thorin, please!” I was not even sure what I was begging for at this point. His hands infuriated me, still soldiers chastely guarding  my hips from sliding down his body.

I was riding a wave of golden, fuzzy sensation now, vaguely aware that the light of the campfire roared brightly next to me, vaguely aware that I had been tossed onto my back on the solid, hard ground. Thorin stood over me, chest heaving, eyes simmering with an expression that made my cunt tingle. He dropped to his knees, and I gave myself over to the feeling of his hand roughly lifting my skirt and tearing at my underclothes.

The voices of our concerned companions wavered into my consciousness. “What’s this, then?” Bofur exclaimed from somewhere on the other side of the flames that flickered and hissed mere feet from where we lay. “What do you think you’re doing?” Bofur demanded, but Thorin just yanked my undergarments from around my feet and haphazardly tossed them behind us. He gripped my ankles and thrust my legs up into a bent position, spreading me open to his gaze. When he dropped his face to my wet slit, he inhaled deeply, groaning.

Tearing himself away, he barked in a hoarse voice, “Maiden’s Folly! Balin, do something!” He began to unbuckle his belt, fingers tripping clumsily. I grabbed his forearms and yanked him down on top of me. He clamped his lips and teeth over the pulse point in my neck and sucked, licked and kissed breathless sighs from my throat. I grasped his clothed ass, rubbing his crotch against mine. We cried out breathlessly into the night air. I was desperate for more of his touch, in spite of the white hot rage he provoked in me.

“Pull him off of her!” I heard Fίli shout, followed by Kίli’s muttered reassurances as he and another restrained Fίli from pulling Thorin away from the wonderful things he was doing to my body.

“You know you can’t do that,” Balin chastised, rapidly digging through his bag, trying to find the ingredients for an antivenin, the efficacy of which he had heard rumored before. “They will go mad if separated now.” He dug fruitlessly for a moment more for ingredients which simply were not in his bag. With a frustrated sigh, he exclaimed, “There’s nothing I can do, Thorin. It has to work its way through your systems, unfortunately.”

Thorin moaned and shoved himself up onto hands and knees, leaving me feeling bereft of his criminally delightful mouth. My response was automatic. “Thorin, please!” He fumbled with the fastening of his trousers once more, and in the lull, I became aware of many faces circled around us, watching with expressions ranging from outrage to curiosity to lust to simple shock. The pain and rage on Fίli’s face hurt me, but the pulsing heat of Thorin’s cock pressing between my legs dragged me from the thought. I focused now on Thorin’s face, his awful, beautiful face. High on his cheeks, his skin was tinged red. His eyes shone black with lust, the flame from the fire reflected in his fathomless irises. I could tell he was fighting a terrible battle within himself, rebelling against the bone-deep lust no doubt coursing through him now. I needed him. I reached for him once more, and he roughly pinned my wrists to the ground.

Drawing a ragged breath, he pressed his mouth to my ear and growled, “I can’t stop myself. It’s too much. I’m going to fuck you, and it’s not going to be gentle.” I nodded with a whimper, pinned down to the ground as I was.

“Uncle, please don’t do this,” Fίli wailed from the side. Thorin thrust himself into my body with a grunt, and it felt just so very incredible. With scant self-control, he pulled out of me and slammed his cock into me again, building a bruising pace, my mantra of grudging approval singing in our ears. I really wished I could fight against this need, this aching and consuming desire the likes of which I had never known, but it was in vain. Maiden’s Folly had taken over my brain and body.

As he fucked me with abandon, the sound of flesh on flesh filling my ears, he pressed his lips to my ear again, his beard scraping shocks of sensation down my chest. He urged me, tone husky, “I bet it doesn’t feel this good with my nephew, does it?” I groaned my reply. “Is his cock as big as mine, little girl?”

“No- Harder!” I begged him, my hands clenching into fists. My legs had begun to tremble. I was so close. His hair fell in curtains around my face as he kissed me hard, all teeth and spite.

“Should we be watching this?” I could hear little Ori plead shakily. Jerking my gaze away from Thorin’s dark eyes and grim mouth, I saw to my vague shock that Dwalin was watching us hungrily and touching himself.

“Have to keep an eye on them, don’ we?” Dwalin grumbled. “Can’t have them hurtin’ each other, can we?”

The thought of Thorin slapping or scratching or biting or hurting me in any way overtook me, and I jerked my hands free from his iron grip. I dug my nails into his bare ass, forcing him into me somehow faster and harder and so much better. He buried his face against my neck and held my shoulder firmly between his teeth, high whimpers escaping him in gusts of hot, wet breath now. Just as fast as the dust had entered my system, I felt a dark line of pleasure building ever more intense. I wrapped my legs around Thorin’s hips and took his cock hard and deep. My desperation grew as he pounded into me, and the line burst into a searing paroxysm of perfection, my dripping cunt pulling on him. In my sensual delirium, I felt his movements grow unsteady, arrhythmic. In a flash of movement, he pressed me down by the shoulders and groaned long and deep up into the night air, a wolf serenading the moon, as he came inside me.

He collapsed on top of my body, and my legs dropped back down to the earth. At some point, I must have blacked out, because when I awoke, Balin was fussing over me, presenting me damp linens with which to clean myself. “Are you well, lass?” He kindly asked, but I was too distracted to pay him attention. Thorin sat on the far side of the camp, absently digging through his rucksack for nothing in particular, a sour expression knitting his brow. The rest of the company purposefully kept their distance and avoided eye contact with Thorin. I made out the shape of Kίli sitting next to Fίli’s swaddled figure, already curled up with feigned sleep. I knew the rejection inherent in his reaction, and it stung. I knew I was damaged goods now. I knew I was treacherous. I wiped a tear from my burning eyes.

Presently, Balin left me to rejoin his brother and Bifur and Dori around the fire for quiet conversation. The rest of the Dwarves were avoiding me, as well, though I imagine it was out of polite respect. I gazed back at Thorin to find him watching me intently. He gave me a mirthless, grim smile. Thorin exhaled slowly and turned his back to me, sinking into his sleeping furs. I woke up the next morning to the sound of subdued laughter and the clanging of a ladle on the stew pot as Bombur prepared breakfast and the rest of the company packed up to continue our trek. I was curled up by myself several feet from the fire, the heavy warmth of Thorin's coat draped over my body.


End file.
